Riley's Converse
by Spastic Bookworm
Summary: Riley loves his Converse. The reason why is so simple. Oh and his shoelace breaks. BenRiley preslash, kinda fluffy. Epilogue to this posted in Interlude: Goldie! Poll in my profile. Go vote!


Something I thought of while watching NT the other night. And it's going with the trend of 'what about Ben and Riley meeting in MIT?' Abi comes off a little mean and wicked... But I get the feeling she tolerates Riley like she would a little kid alot of the time.

Forgive some errors, this isn't Beta'd. Just read and reread by me, and people sometimes miss things. The rating's cause I'm paranoid.

I'll post this eventually on LJ too... Link to my page in my profile. (Nothing'll be changed, so don't worry about reading it there too!)

I don't own anything National Treasure related, nor Apple, and I'm pretty sure Yoko Ono belongs to herself…

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Riley loves his Converse. 

They're faded, dirty and the souls are only holding on with prayer, wish fulfillment and little bits of duct tape; Ben says that means it's time for new shoes.

"Maybe something more grown up, hmm?"

But Riley says that just means they're worn in.

"Really Ben, shoes don't grow up."

There's tons of things in his life that he likes, and a handful that he really likes.

He likes his Corvette, and his Ferrari, and the upper east side condo he hardly spends any time at but feels it's something he needs to have nonetheless. And he likes the giant blue man stature that he had to give to the Cairo museum.

He really likes the Apple iFish-which he's named Goldie, even though it's blue- that he has hidden in Ben and Abi's air ducts and wired to the doorbell and in-house intercom.

Really likes the way it plays random songs throughout the entire mansion and the back deck whenever the doorbell rings. (He makes sure to ring the bell every chance he has, even though he has his own key.)

And he especially likes the irritated look Abi gets whenever it happens; how it grows deeper when she can't get his guilt in the matter out of him, or find the source. How it passes irritated and borders on deadly when Ben fails to hide his amusement at the whole thing. Riley highly suspects Ben knows exactly where Goldie is hidden, and he's sure Abi knows Ben knows too.

Riley also suspects that's why Ben sleeps in a guest room after particularly busy visitor infested days.

But all of that has nothing on his shoes. He's had them going on five years now, and yes, they show the ware of shoes three times their age, but they got him through MIT. Faithfully took him place to place when he couldn't afford a car, and his usual ride had class. Have even been used as a door wedge when he moved out of the dorm and into a to-tiny-to-be-called-an-apartment apartment.

They were with him through the entire hunt for the treasure- even warned him something bad was going to happen- and were there, contently around his feet, when he actually found the mother of all treasures-

"And if you really think about it all, starting way back past the beginning, it was really my shoes that found it."

"I'd like to think I had some part in it."

Riley really likes how he can smile when he says "You did, Ben. You did."

Nobody comes close to understanding why, after his one percent, he still insists on wearing them to every social event where dressing up is needed.

He's very persistent about it. But for Bens sake- who gets a headache from the arguing- he more often then not caves after 10 or 15 minutes of fighting with Abi about it. Contrary to popular belief, he _can_ be the bigger person. He just doesn't like to do it often.

But eventually even she gives up and lets him wear the battered Converse with his tux. Three times he's gotten his way without even a raised voice, and the day of the fourth he's on edge: His shoelace broke that morning.

Of course right after it happens he runs to replace it least Abi notice and use it as incentive for him wearing penguin shoes.

So that night, after only receiving a small smile when he appears dressed in his only actual tux and standard shoes, Riley's on edge.

What happened the last time his shoelace broke is still vivid in his mind, no matter how much repression therapy he tries to take. (All the therapists insist there is no reverse memory repression therapy. Riley is starting to believe them.)

That entire night he's expecting an explosion, a gun to his head; something life threatening at least. But nothing happens, and he ends up in his bed at Ben's that night more on edge then when the lace actually broke.

So it's understandable that he's still expecting it when the explosion comes the next morning, not to say he likes the form it took. Give him a British criminal nut job with a gun any day.

He stumbles into the kitchen for breakfast and Abi's wearing an entirely to innocent-with-smug-pleasure-just-underneath expression for the early hour.

He glares at her innocence but goes about his business. Whatever canary she just ate is fine with Riley, so long as there's coffee and cocoa puffs left.

An hour later everyone's more awake and wanting to start their day. Ben tells Riley to get dressed, that they're going to get that Christmas tree now, before the predicted snow falls.

Abi tells Riley to have fun, and her grin no longer hides her smugness. Riley's already on edge nerves kick up a notch and he wonders if she gets like this every month, or if this month's special. He certainly doesn't remember any extra deviousness… But he also never really pays attention to anything like that. Simply makes sure he doesn't eat anything chocolate besides his own private stash.

Then the blast happens.

He's fully showered, dressed and about to sit and put his Converse on when the space they were in when he went to bed is found to be empty.

He stares at the spot for long minutes, not actually understanding it. Then the over innocent smug looks click into place and he knows what happened to his babies.

"ABIGAILE!"

Ben's the first one he comes into contact with, and under the anger he's thankful. Ben'll know how to calm him down.

"My shoes Ben! What did that Yoko she-witch do with my shoes?!"

"Breath Riley. I assume you mean Abigail." Riley narrows his eyes and doesn't move to retract the name nor nod in the affirmative. She did something with his shoes; she'll forever be the she-witch in his book. (And if Riley's honest with himself, she's been the Yoko part in his mind for a while already.)

He tells Ben about his missing shoes, explains that yes he's positive they were there last night, and no he didn't take them off somewhere else and forget.

"I didn't drink more then one glass last night, Ben. I don't think I took my shoes off at the party and came home in socks."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Riley just glowers.

"What's with all the yelling?" Abi appears from the living room and Riley turns his glare on her. Ben, it appears, has succeeded. He no longer wants to put Abi in a box and mail her back to Germany:

"The postage would be quite expensive."

Ben also turns to look at his wife, but Riley wonders if he even sees the guilt written on her face. He leaves it to Ben to tell her.

"Oh. Really Riley, I thought you'd take better care of you're things. How did you lose them?"

Riley's had it up to here- he mentally holds his hand above his head- and just turns and goes back up the stairs and to his room.

Fifteen minutes later he's shoeless and in his Corvette, heading to his hardly lived in condo. He _knew_ there's a reason for it.

He doesn't even say goodbye to Ben…

Ben, who calls him fifteen times until Riley puts his brain to use and turns off his cell and unplugs his house phone. He goes to sleep with the phone under his pillow. He tells himself it's so he'll remember to turn it back on, but he knows it's because it holds proof that Ben still does care about him.

The next morning he turns his phone back on before even getting out of bed.

Accompanying the first batch of missed calls are eight more and just as many voice mails and three times as many texts. He scrolls through all of them, hardly reading any. They're all pretty much the same. Sorry about your shoes, Riley stop being childish etc…

He groans loudly, wondering what shoes he could possibly wear now. He doesn't want to think about it.

He just wants to curl back into his comforter and go back to sleep. Maybe dream of Before The Charlotte. When things were better; poorer but better.

His phone vibrates before he can, and he stares at the screen: BEN flashing in the LCD.

He answers it before he can over-think.

"Yeah?"

"Go to your living room."

Riley stares as call terminated- call back? appears.

He shuts his phone and kicks his curiosity in the balls when he finds himself moving to the door. Or his loyalty to Ben. Or maybe his affection for Ben. Either way, some emotion gets kicked and Riley opens the door to the most wonderful thing he's ever seen. More wonderful, even, then The Stairs.

"How…" His Converse, in all their tape and tatter glory are sitting strikingly out of place on his sleek glass and metal coffee table.

"I made her dig them up. They were in the backyard." He doesn't even know Ben's actually there until he speaks.

Riley looks over to his best friend, sitting in the middle of his couch, and doesn't know what to say.

"I…thank you, Ben." He picks up his shoes and actually hugs them close; surprised to find they don't smell like damp earth.

"I sprayed them with Febreze and wiped them off." Ben always could practically read his mind.

Still holding the shoes, he sits. Ben stays where his is, doesn't move an inch to give the younger man more room. Riley finds he likes the way they're close but don't seem to invade personal space.

Then he feels Bens stare, knows what question is coming: the one question no one thought to ask him.

"Why do you love them so much?"

And the answer's such a simple one.

Riley turns to look at him, finds they're face to face -inches apart- and he smiles, eyes a little wet. "You gave them to me, Ben."

Yes, Riley loves his Converse-

Ben smiles softly, appears pleased with the answer.

-But Riley thinks he maybe loves Ben too.

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Reviews are love.


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